But it wasn’t enough. I could see now that nothing would ever be enough unless the violence ceased. An heir wouldn’t help. They would merely inherit this heartbreak.

I stared at Shayleen’s son when he smiled at me, toothless and new and rosy-cheeked.

“Aster?”

“Hmm?” I tore my eyes from the babe and blinked at the open window, the sunlight blinding and blurring in contrast to the shaded hut.

“Are you okay? You’re looking a little pale.”

I cleared my throat and gave my head a shake. “Fine, sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

I smiled, but her attention was given back to her task, and my stomach was weighted, my chest tight.

A moment passed, followed by too many more, before Shayleen finally said gently, “Well, I really must get these seeds organized before this little goblin of mine grows grumpy again.”

“I could help,” I said, and found I meant it, eager to see if perhaps it would rid the insidious churning within me.

“I cannot allow that, my queen, but I do thank you for the offer.”

With that, she smiled and curtsied, then plucked her son from the counter to retrieve the pail she’d dropped upon my arrival.

It would seem I’d out-stayed my welcome, if I’d been welcome at all, so I turned for the door with a heavy heart. “Take care, Shayleen.”

“Aster,” she called.

I turned back, shielding my eyes from the harsh glow of the sun with my hand. “You take care, okay?”

I frowned, but she was gone before I could read her expression.

The journey back to the towers was quiet, and I was once again thankful for the males who left me to my own musings. Though I could’ve definitely done with the distraction, I wasn’t sure what would have vacated my mouth if I were to open it.

Wailing or screaming.

Years spent playing hide-and-seek, catching butterflies, and braiding hair with flowers while we regaled one another with fictional tales of love and danger and magic still lingered in my fondest memories.

Growing up, my father had made sure we’d had no neighbors in the forest within the foothills of the towers, but I’d still attended classes a few days a week in the village. Shayleen had been the only one brave enough to befriend the general’s daughter, and I’d foolishly swept those years of friendship aside as soon as I’d laid eyes on my future husband.

Perhaps life would’ve drawn us in two differing directions regardless, yet I couldn’t help but feel as if this sudden sense of loneliness was no one’s fault but my own. I’d been ignoring the way it wrapped around my heart in a cold squeeze for weeks on end, but there was no ignoring it after today.

I was alone and that likely wouldn’t change, so there was no use in feeling sorry for myself.